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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925487">Behind Every Atom of This World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juan_Pujol_Garcia/pseuds/Juan_Pujol_Garcia'>Juan_Pujol_Garcia</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinna/pseuds/Sinna'>Sinna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dr. Carmilla (Musician), The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Found Family Feels, Gen, also a little bit of flirting bc I'm queer, but like mostly angsty bad ones, but until that day I will just continue to make it up as I go, one day I will understand the Dr C lore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:02:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juan_Pujol_Garcia/pseuds/Juan_Pujol_Garcia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinna/pseuds/Sinna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two unethical lady scientists walk into a bar...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Behind Every Atom of This World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dr. Carmilla lifts her glass of blood red... well... blood to her lips and surveys the empty bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not her fault the other customers got hysterical and ran. She'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> she wasn't gonna kill anyone besides the creep hitting on a drunk frat girl. Her days of mindlessly slaughtering whole buildings full of people are behind her. Well… mostly. A vampire does have to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, mortals get so touchy about the littlest things and now it’s ruining her night. Somehow, without the intoxicating glamour of a hundred bodies crammed into the dimly lit space, the bar now seems more flat out sad than glamorously melancholy. Carmilla is almost ready to give up and find somewhere else to brood when she hears footsteps at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh joy. A new human who's going to run screaming at the sight of a dead man on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any second now....</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The footsteps remain steady. Maybe they just haven't seen it. Or maybe...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla turns her head to see the most beautiful pair of mechanical wings she's ever set eyes on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh....</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apologies for the mess," Carmilla quips. "And who might you be?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman attached to the wings barely seems to notice the bleeding body as she looks up at Carmilla with an eager smile. Carmilla recognizes the spark of curiosity in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Raphaella la Cognizi. And you are?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla holds out a hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Call me Dr. Carmilla."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella’s wings puff out in some sort of reaction to the name. Carmilla is once again impressed by the workmanship, even as she worries about the potential dangers of being recognized. But Raphaella quickly regains her composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pleasure to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brings Carmilla’s hand to her lips and kisses it. Carmilla meets her eyes with a smile. There’s a familiar energy buzzing in the air. But scientists are curious creatures, and she won’t be swayed from her interest in the mechanical wonders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lovely wings. Your work?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Raphaella fans the wings out so she can get a better look, then uses them to hop over the bar and peruse the shelves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Carmilla studies them in fascination. There are clear stylistic differences from her own work, but at the base of things there’s a certain similarity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"These look a bit like... of course the style is different..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella pulls a nice whiskey off the shelf and pours herself a drink. “Remind you of something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone I used to know. A few people, really."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella takes a sip and gestures for her to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla grudgingly admires her tenacity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I used to be quite close with people who had similar... Mechanisms. Turned out to be ungrateful little brats. Still..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks wistful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! The Mechanisms. They have quite the reputation. A rather destructive one, but truly fascinating.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I don't suppose you've met any of them. It's been a long time. I don't even know if they're still around."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A long time, and an infinite universe...” Raphaella notes. “The odds of any two groups encountering each other are minuscule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Indeed they are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parallel evolution is far more likely, really. A pity. Carmilla finds herself oddly longing for information about....</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. That would be a mistake.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s drawn back to reality as Raphaella sets her glass down with a clink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet,” the winged woman remarks, “against all odds, here we are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She studies Carmilla, eyes disconcertingly sharp and searching. Carmilla tries to distract the both of them with science.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, tell me more about the wings. A replacement, or an augmentation?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella shrugs. “Replacement, I admit, although that wasn’t the original plan. My original ones got fucked right up, which left the perfect opportunity to test out something I’d been working on for a while! There’s so much to learn. I simply couldn’t let something as petty as death stop me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. So, the similarities are more than just aesthetic. Carmilla raises her glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"An excellent sentiment. Always nice to meet another immortal."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It has been a very long time since she met anyone like her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella toasts her. “Yes. Quite unusual, naturally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Naturally.” Carmilla studies her. “So, how did you end up here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella’s smile is just a little too bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wandered off from my crew for a bit of solo experimentation!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A crew?" She looks pensively into the middle distance. She didn’t ask for this little nostalgia blast. "Are they all like you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d know better than me. They are your handiwork, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla freezes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They... You do know them?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I do.” Raphaella is watching her face closely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jonny..." The name is dragged out of her like a bone from a wound. "No. I'm sorry. I suppose you'll think I don't have the right to ask that question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella doesn’t react. “It’s a complicated question, isn’t it?” She sips her drink. “I’ve heard a lot about you, is the thing. A lot of very complicated things, technically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla sips her drink, trying to regain control of the situation. "Is that so? I do love it when people talk about me. What have you heard?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All sorts of horror stories, mostly. You do know how dramatic Jonny can be.” Raphaella smiles smugly, and Carmilla briefly despises her. “But the most interesting tidbit, to my mind, is about airlocks! And the number of times someone went out them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, the airlocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you know how it is,” Carmilla says with false cheer. “Sometimes you trip and fall out an airlock. Takes you a few years to get back to your ship. After a few times you figure out that maybe you're not... wanted."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tragic accidents and all that. But it’s that realization I’m curious about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella leans forward, continuing to watch her closely with that same smug smile, and Carmilla desperately reaches for the words that will make this woman trust her. She used to be so good at this. But time, it seems, affects even immortals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, well. I am… occasionally… capable of reading a room."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s simply interesting. When people tell stories of monsters, those monsters don’t leave of their own free will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"An astute observation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s always fascinating to see where the lines are drawn, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Indeed. Where do you draw this particular line?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet! Isn’t that exciting?” Raphaella beams at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla laughs. "That’s one way to put it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella taps her fingers against the bar. “...They don’t want to see you again. But you knew that. And I’m willing to tell you some things, if you’re willing to not ask for more than I offer up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I figured as much. But... I find myself curious to hear anything about them that you care to share."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Raphaella begins to speak. Small things, all of them - a new type of flame retardant Ashes has taken as a personal challenge, Nastya’s latest octokitten feeding efforts, some reorganizing Ivy’s been doing - but she tells her fragmented stories with clear skill and affection for their stars. Despite herself, Carmilla drinks in the stories like a woman dying of thirst. There aren't tears in her eyes. She long ago lost that ability. But there's a certain mistiness to her gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella pauses, for just a moment, then tells her about Jonny. She dives into more detail about him. How he’s doing, his latest stories and hyperfixations, that sort of thing. Hearing these stories is almost too painful and yet she wishes only for there to be more of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny is her first. Well, almost. He's the only one...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raph pauses and takes a sip from her glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you drink alcohol?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla shrugs. "I can. I usually don't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to? I can grab you something, as I’m up, and all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would it be too cliche to ask for red wine?" Carmilla asks with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we can afford to indulge in some cliché,” she says, reaching for a bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, I do like you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it’s true. Carmilla can’t resist wondering... if Raphaella had been there all these years ago…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, she shakes off the thought. If there’s one thing she’s learned over the years, it’s that “what if” doesn’t get you anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raph brings a bottle of red wine over and breaks the seal. Carmilla pours the wine directly into her still half-full wine glass, diluting the blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella resumes drinking and telling her stories. As the alcohol kicks in, the elegant clip of her accent relaxes into something softer, but her storytelling ability remains as strong as ever. She’s definitely a Mechanism. Carmilla never expected their numbers to grow without her. But in all of time and space, she supposes stranger things have happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella finishes the last of her bourbon and frowns at her empty glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla gestures to her still nearly full wine bottle. "Care to join me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella hops back up on the bar, reaching precariously for another wine glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla smiles and fills her glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about you? Care to tell me about yourself?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Raphaella begins to spin a different story. The tale of a girl who loved science above all else. A winged young woman who lost her ability to fly. An experiment with consequences she barely understood. She speaks of plans and research over millennia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in centuries, Carmilla finds herself speaking to a peer. Raphaella has tested things she’s only dreamed of, and she’s happy to share the answer to any question Carmilla cares to ask. In return, Carmilla finds herself sharing some of her own experiments. It’s so nice to find someone who won’t react to unethical science with revulsion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame we couldn’t meet under better circumstances,” Raphaella eventually says with a wistful sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla nods. "It really is. I'd like to spend more time with you. But I suppose you have a ship to catch."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella glances towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carmilla almost asks to walk her to the spaceport and damn the consequences if someone sees her. But, no. She’s not scared of what any of the Mechanisms might do. But if she sees Aurora, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her once child. Her once home. The only one who dared to speak her defiance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, Carmilla won’t do that. Not to them, and not to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I’ll see you again,” she says instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphaella smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is, after all, an infinite universe…</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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